


Upward Battle (the angsty baby fic)

by Scotty1609



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DC Extended Universe, Nightwing (Comics)
Genre: Almost miscarriage, Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Author is not a doctor, Batfamily (DCU) Feels, Batfamily Angst (DCU), Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Dick Grayson Angst, Dick Grayson Needs a Hug, F/M, Female Dick Grayson, Gen, Genderbending, Hurt Dick Grayson, Hurt/Comfort, Jason Todd Angst, Mild Blood, Minor Character Death, Miscarriage, POV Bruce Wayne, Panic Attacks, Past Miscarriage, Pregnancy, Protective Batfamily (DCU), Protective Bruce Wayne, Unplanned Pregnancy, actually edited this time, inaccurate medical jargon, mentioned Sheila Haywood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-04
Updated: 2020-11-04
Packaged: 2021-03-09 06:09:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27389995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scotty1609/pseuds/Scotty1609
Summary: “D-Dad-” Dixie choked out, and Bruce sat up stalk-straight, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and reaching for his daughter. Yes, Dixie was his child, but Bruce could count on one hand the amount of times she had called him ‘Dad’. “Chum-” Bruce croaked, “-what’s going on?”“I- I don’t- I can’t- Dad,” Dixie sobbed, her hands flying to her lower stomach. “I don’t know- it hurts, Dad, and- and I- Daddy, my baby- something’s wrong with my baby-”...a female!Dick Grayson fic where Dixie is pregnant and (almost) miscarries. Bruce supports his children through the angst.
Relationships: & Alfred, (mentioned briefly) - Relationship, Batfamily Members & Dick Grayson, Cassandra Cain & Tim Drake & Dick Grayson & Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne & Damian Wayne, Dick Grayson & Bruce Wayne, Selina Kyle/Bruce Wayne
Comments: 24
Kudos: 223





	Upward Battle (the angsty baby fic)

**Author's Note:**

> Author is angsty on main and needed angst/fluff/batman/babies to cure it.
> 
> WARNINGS: talk of past miscarriage (NOT Batfam), almost-miscarriage, inaccurate pregnancy talk/medical jargon from author

It wasn’t often that Bruce Wayne had nice dreams. Typically, his slumber was accompanied by vision of terror that caused him to wake in the early hours of the morning. He would toss and turn until either Alfred came to awaken him or Selina- should she be staying the night- grabbed his shoulders and held him close until he was able to return to sleep.

Tonight, however, was different. In his dream, Bruce was sitting in front of the fireplace, each one of his children accompanying him. Jason was there, teaching Damian a knife trick, Damian’s face screwed up in concentration. Tim had his head pressed against Bruce’s shoulder as he talked to Cass in quiet tones. And Dixie was sitting at Bruce’s other side, hugging him around the waist and leaning into his chest.

 _“Bruce,”_ Dixie suddenly said, and Bruce looked down at his eldest daughter. Dixie was beaming up at him, but her voice didn’t match her expression one bit. Her voice, bitter and scared, pressed past smiling lips. _“Bruce… B…”_ Still smiling, Dixie choked on a sob. “D-Dad…”

And that wasn’t Dixie in his dreams.

It was Dixie in real life.

His eyes snapping open, Bruce turned his head to see his eldest standing beside the bed on shaking legs, the hem of her oversized sweater- probably Jason’s- twisted up in her grasp. Her short hair was in disarray, like she had just rolled out of bed, and her eyes were wide with utter _terror_.

“D-Dad-” Dixie choked out, and Bruce sat up stalk-straight, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and reaching for his daughter. Yes, Dixie was his child, but Bruce could count on one hand the amount of times she had called him ‘Dad’. The first time was after she had been beaten near to death by Two Face, a mere nine years old. The second was after she came back from space to find out Jason was dead. The third, after Bruce had come back from his unwanted time-traveling ‘vacation’.

This was the fourth.

“Dixie, kiddo, what-” Bruce started, pulling her in for a hug, but froze when he felt something warm and wet against his knee. Then, he smelled that horribly familiar copper scent, and he immediately pulled Dixie away from him to take in the sight of her, trying to see what was wrong- where she was hurt.

In the dim moonlight, Bruce was able to see several trickles of blood falling down her inner thighs, trailing all the way down her legs and dripping onto the floor.

It was too much blood to be a normal cycle. That, and Dixie was utterly _terrified_.

“Chum-” Bruce croaked, “-what’s going on?”

“I- I don’t- I can’t- _Dad_ ,” Dixie sobbed, her hands flying to her lower stomach. “I don’t know- it hurts, Dad, and- and I- Daddy, my _baby_ \- something’s wrong with my _baby_ -”

Understanding flooded Bruce’s awareness, his eyes dropping to Dixie’s stomach. “ _Shit_ -” Bruce cursed, and then he was standing, grabbing his eldest in a bridal carry and bolting out of the room. “Alfred!” Bruce shouted down the hallway. “ALFRED!”

It took only moments for four doors in the hallway to swing open. Alfred, still in pajamas, took one look at Bruce and Dixie, then turned back into his room to fetch a phone. “I will call for Dr. Thompkins,” the butler called to the hallway, sounding much too steady and calm.

Bruce nodded, then turned to the other three open doors. Tim’s body was slumped like he was still fighting off sleep, but his eyes were completely alert as he inspected his older sister’s body. When he saw the blood, his eyes went wide and he croaked, “Bruce, what-”

“I’ll explain in the Cave,” Bruce said firmly, his voice leaving no room for argument. “Cassandra, go ready a heart monitor and an ultrasound.” Without question, the girl darted off down the staircase. “Timothy, grab some warm water and towels. Damian-”

But the youngest had already crossed over to grab Dixie’s hand in both of his, holding onto her just as tightly as she did him. Meeting his father’s eyes, Damian nodded gravely. Bruce would have ruffled the brave boy’s hair if he had a free hand, but as it were, his main priority was getting Dixie medical attention.

Getting _her baby_ medical attention.

The thought of his daughter, no matter that she was an adult, having a child of her own made Bruce’s stomach do somersaults.

But the thought of something _happening_ to Dixie’s child nearly sent Bruce’s brain into panic mode. He’d never had to deal with something like this before. Pregnancy was a whole new territory for him, a part of fathering a daughter that he- admittedly- thought he would never have to deal with.

Before Bruce could start panicking too much, Dixie’s free hand curled up in the collar of his shirt, her face burrowing into his neck. A wet sob ripped through her body, jolting Bruce into action.

By the time they got down to the Cave, Cass had readied the ultrasound and heart monitor. As Bruce set Dixie down on a cot- having to pry her koala-bear grip off of himself- he quickly went about hooking his eldest daughter up to both machines.

Tim raced into the main cavern with a bowl of water and towels, just as he was ordered. When he saw Bruce pulling Dixie’s sweatshirt up, rubbing cool gel over her stomach, the teenager paused. “Bruce, what’s going on?” Tim’s voice shook as he came to stand by Dixie’s head, grabbing onto his sister’s free hand, the one Damian didn’t have a death grip on.

Forcing himself to steady his own voice, Bruce admitted, “I’m not positive, but… I think she might be miscarrying.”

Dixie let out a harsh, broken sob at the word, and suddenly all of her siblings were ripped from their states of shock. They began hovering over her, touching her face, her shoulders, her arms and hands, murmuring reassurances that fell flat when the stench of _blood, blood, too much blood_ met the crisp air of the Cave.

Bruce wasn’t a doctor. He wasn’t a nurse or a midwife. But he knew how to look for abnormalities on an ultrasound. Pressing the wand into Dixie’s skin- trying not to wince and failing miserably when his daughter groaned in pain- Bruce inspected the grainy image in front of him.

He could see something small, something that looked no larger than a single cherry, and it made his heart stop for a moment.

Was this… was this _his grandchild?_

No longer able to keep his hands from shaking, Bruce went to turn on the speaker of the ultrasound machine.

Immediately, the Cave was filled with the quiet but steady _ba-bump, ba-bump, ba-bump_ of a tiny heartbeat.

The cry of relief that ripped from Dixie’s chest made them all want to sob. Even _Alfred_ was sniffling a bit.

Dixie curled her hand around Bruce’s wrist, hot tears- not from _fear_ , but from bone melting _relief_ \- rushing down her face. “D-Dad…” she croaked, and Bruce couldn’t help but get misty-eyed himself.

Leaning down, he pressed a kiss into Dixie’s hairline. “You’re going to be alright, chum,” he murmured to her. “You’re both going to be alright…”

…

An infection. Dixie had an infection.

A moderate one, and Leslie had promised not to go into _too_ gory of details with them, but she explained that the blood had appeared to be much more because of the other fluids it was mixed with.

However, an infection so early in her pregnancy could be dangerous for both Dixie and the baby. Leslie ordered her to bedrest for the next two weeks, until the antibiotics had a chance to kick in and take care of things. Dixie, for once in her life- and it would have been downright _concerning_ under any other circumstance- readily agreed.

This was how, the next morning, Bruce found Dixie cuddled up in bed with her little siblings. Damian was closest to her, resting his head on her chest and curling up into her side. Tim laid behind Damian, his arm lying on top of the boy as he reached to rest a hand on Dixie’s belly. (It was a tell on how scared the boys had actually been for their older sister that they weren’t arguing at being pressed so close together.) Cassie was folded impossibly tight along the headboard atop the pillows, her body curled around Dixie’s head like a human hood.

Bruce wasn’t surprised to see Jason there as well; he just hadn’t noticed when someone had called his second eldest. Jason had pulled up a desk chair and was reading a book aloud to his siblings- _The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe_ \- and his typically gruff, gravely voice had taken on a soft, soothing tone that Bruce had never heard from his wayward son. Jason’s feet were propped up on the bed, Dixie’s hand gently clasped around his ankle, rubbing circles into his skin with her thumb.

Waiting until Jason finished his paragraph, Bruce cleared his throat. “Sorry to interrupt,” the man spoke just loud enough for his children to hear, trying his best to be calm and gentle. “But Alfred has dinner ready.”

“I shall be dining with Grayson,” Damian huffed, not moving from his older sister’s side save for shooting a glare at his father, as though daring the man to tell him to move.

“Me too,” Tim spoke firmly.

Cass sat up a bit, raising her hand and nodding her agreement.

Closing his book, Jason pulled his feet off the bed. “Ditto that,” he said as he stretched. “I’ll help Alfie bring it up.” With a beat of hesitation, Jason stood from the chair and followed Bruce down towards the kitchen. His hands shoved into his pockets, shoulders hunched over, Bruce’s son- his 6’ 2”, 200 pound, 21-year-old son- looked incredibly small.

“Jaylad,” Bruce murmured, fighting the urge to put a hand on Jason’s shoulder. They weren’t _quite_ there yet, and Bruce was pushing boundaries with the nickname already. “What’s wrong?”

Bruce had assumed Jason would scoff. Would tell him to drop it or fuck off, then grab Alfred’s food and lock himself in Dixie’s bedroom with his siblings.

Instead, Jason licked his lips, looking down at the ground as he fought for the right words. “I was… I _am_ worried,” the young man admitted hesitantly. “I can’t- _we_ can’t protect her from… from anything that could go wrong.”

Bruce had looked up the statistics overnight. Miscarriage happened in about 1 in 4 pregnancies. Nearly 85% of them happened in the first trimester. There was also the possibility- as utterly _horrific_ as it was- of stillbirth. And Dixie was small, petite. Bruce had looked up the statistics on that, too, and had found that underweight mothers had a higher chance of not carrying to term.

“I can’t-” Jason coughed, trying to hide the way his voice was croaking. “I can’t _fight off_ the possibilities, Bruce. I can’t shoot them or bury them. I can’t _get rid of them_.” Running a shaking hand through his hair, Jason’s voice got smaller. “My mom was pregnant when she OD’d…”

Bruce froze. He hadn’t known that detail regarding Catherine's death.

Jason sighed, shaking his head. “It- it’s in the past. And besides the point.”

The silence between the two men was deafening. Bruce, despite not knowing what to say, knew he needed to reassure his son in _some_ way.

“We may not be able to fight off the possibilities,” Bruce spoke cautiously, “but… we can be there for Dixie, _should_ anything go wrong. Should _anything_ happen, as it were.” Then, before he could second-guess himself, Bruce finally laid a hand on Jason’s shoulder, drawing the young man’s eyes to him. “Dixie’s body is fighting a battle, yes, but that doesn’t mean she has to do it alone.”

For a moment, Jason just stared at him, and Bruce was afraid that he’d said something wrong. But then, a crooked smile worked its way onto his face. “Only you, B, _only you_.”

Not quite sure what the young man meant by that, Bruce shrugged off the statement and Bruce gestured towards the kitchen. The two men went in and picked up the trays Alfred had prepared, carting them back towards Dixie’s room.

Suddenly, just before they entered, Jason winced. Bruce looked at him curiously, and Jason grumbled, “Can’t wait until she starts having fucked-up cravings and tries to feed them to us… Dixie’s cooking is awful on a _normal_ basis.”

 _“I heard that!”_ Dixie hollered from her bedroom, and Bruce chuckled when Jason shouted back, “But you didn’t _deny_ it!”

 _Yes_ , Bruce thought, _this is going to be an upward battle._ But, watching as his children gathered together to feast on grilled cheese and tomato soup- Dixie’s favorite comfort food (besides Cocoa Puffs, because Alfred would _never_ give a pregnant woman such diabetes-inducing balls of _sugar_ as a meal)- Bruce felt his chest welling in pride. _But we’ve got each other’s backs. We’ve got **Dixie’s** back._

And nothing- not disagreements or fights, not injuries, not even _death_ it seemed- would be able to separate them permanently.

Perhaps… perhaps this battle would even bring them closer together.

It was then that Damian ripped off a piece of his sandwich and chose, for _some_ reason, to dip it in Tim’s soup. Tim gave an indignant cry, and Damian made a snide remark that drew a laugh from Jason and an eye-roll from Dixie. Cass tried to hide her giggles, failing miserably, and-

Yeah.

This would be good for them _all_.

**Author's Note:**

> IF I end up giving this fic a sequel, who would you guys want the baby-daddy to be?
> 
> Thanks for reading!! (And I'm sorry about the amount of angst I've been uploading recently...:/)


End file.
